


Intermission

by mercurymoon7490195



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Closet Sex, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurymoon7490195/pseuds/mercurymoon7490195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Combeferre both needed a way to let off a little steam in between debate rounds</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermission

“Enjolras,” Combeferre breathed, pulling away. “You’re going to get us disqualified.”

“Doubtful,” Enjolras panted, diving back in and kissing him deeply. “I can be quiet…and besides, the debate doesn’t resume for twenty minutes. Plus we have not one guard, but two—” Combeferre cut him off with another kiss, pushing him up against the tiny wedge of wall not occupied by the shelving unit.

“You were on fire up there,” he murmured, brushing Enjolras’ hair out of his face. His lips just barely brushed the skin of his ear as he pressed in closer, his leg slipping between Enjolras’.

“Speak for yourself,” Enjolras moaned breathlessly. “Just when I thought I couldn’t want you more…You threw in that quote from Rousseau, and god, ‘Ferre—” He bit his lip as Combeferre palmed him through his dress pants, one hand slipping under the waistband and trying to loose him from the fabric.

“I never—I’ve never been more in love with you than when I looked over a-at you and you had just that look on your face.”

“Which look?” Combeferre asked, stroking him quickly. “My face has many expressions, you know, as faces go.”

Enjolras opened his eyes and grinned. “That face. Smugness sh-shouldn’t suit anyone, but goddamn—” He buried his face into Combeferre’s shoulder, his fingers clutching at his dress shirt. “You could bring the world to its knees with that look.”

Combeferre chuckled. His hand quickened, the pad of his thumb pressing against the head of Enjolras’ cock. A few strokes and Enjolras came with a muffled cry, his back arching against the wall.

“You want to know the secret of it?” Combeferre murmured, reaching behind him to grab a tissue out of the box on the shelf and wiping off his hand. “The secret of looking like you can bring the world to its knees?”

Enjolras pulled back, nodding. The smile on Combeferre’s face sent another ripple of desire coursing through his veins; the fervent hunger in his eyes as he stared down at Enjolras.

“The secret,” Combeferre said quietly, pulling away and unzipping his pants. “Is that I know I can bring the world to its knees.”

Enjolras laughed, spinning him around and pressing him up against the wall where he had just been. His hands slipped down Combeferre’s torso as he sank to the floor, taking him in his hand before licking a long stripe down the shaft. Combeferre’s breath hitched; one hand tangling in Enjolras’ mess of hair, the other bracing himself against the shelf as Enjolras took him carefully into his mouth.

“You too, you know,” he whispered, staring down at him. “You own the stage, when you’re speaking, like…like it’s where you’re meant to be. Everyone sits up and pays attention—I didn’t see a single person on their phones whenever you were speaking.”

He tugged on his hair until Enjolras’ eyes flew open, staring up at him as he sucked. “If you keep debating like you have been, then we’ll win this thing for sure.” His smile widened. “And, if that’s the case, this won’t even compare to what will happen when we get home.”

Enjolras pulled away, his breath pooling on Combeferre’s skin. “You know I’d win either way,” he murmured, stroking him slowly. “The winning is reward enough, is it not?”

His lips moved over the tender skin until he had taken Combeferre’s cock completely into his mouth, drawing a cry out of the bespectacled boy above him.

“Yes…yes…oh God yes!”

Down the hall, Marius raised an eyebrow, staring meaningfully at the noises coming from the janitor’s closet. “What exactly are they doing in there again?” He asked quietly.

A wry smile played on Courfeyrac’s lips as he leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “They’re discussing strategy. We can’t let anyone overhear them, now can we?”

“No, I suppose not,” Marius shrugged. He glanced down at his watch. “They have to be back on stage in then minutes though.”

Courfeyrac leaned over, staring at the watch. “How right you are,” he said, striding down the hall. “Ten minute warning boys!”

"Got it!" Combeferre replied distractedly, pulling Enjolras to his feet. "I love you so much," he murmured, kissing him as he reached over to straighten Enjolras’ tie. "And not just for your skills as an orator."

Enjolras smiled, returning the kiss. He loosed his hair from its half ruined ponytail as Combeferre pulled out a comb, fixing his own hair before turning to Enjolras.

“The dark haired one with the glasses,” he said slowly. “He keeps making points about immigration and not backing them up with anything. Next time he does, ask him why. If we can get him just the tiniest bit flustered, we can make their whole argument to unravel.” He twisted the tie back around his ponytail and patted his shoulder. “We’ll destroy them.”

Enjolras stood, his head held high. “Yes,” he murmured, grinning. “Yes we will.” He gave Combeferre’s hand one last squeeze before throwing the door wide open, striding confidently out into the hall, back towards Marius and Courfeyrac. Combeferre watched him go for a moment, smiling softly to himself. “Yes we will,” he echoed, before closing the door and following them back into the auditorium.


End file.
